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It’s as if we’re still stranded as I write this. My memory supplies the sound of the wind howling outside, and of Emma, talking about digging a tunnel to get to the street, since it’s the streets that will get cleared first.Of course we’re no longer snowed in, so I’ll get back to my post-toilet faux pas. It was my faux pas, somehow, but I wasn’t going to quibble. I did what intelligent men have done for centuries when faced with a thorny problem, involving a woman, and which is of no fault of their own.I apologized.And she did what women have done for centuries, when a man expresses regret for some imagined fault.“It’s okay,” she said, graciously accepting my repentance with a carelessness that made it clear she still thought I was the miscreant, in this situation. “I’m just glad you were okay.”I decided calling her on barging into the bathroom like that wouldn’t advance the cause of détente, so I moved on.“Why did you think I might have a heart attack?” I asked. “Yes, I have a bit. "It...it feels really good..." Ann replied, moaning as the pleasure within her pussy grew exponentially, Charlene's strapon doing things to her pussy that had never been done before."Do you love my cock, babe?" Y...yeah..." Go on, babe...say that you love my cock. I want you to scream it." Y...yes! I love your cock! It feels so good! Char, your cock feels so fucking good! I think...I'm going to cum soon! I'm going to cum from my pussy!!!" Yeah, babe!" Charlene yelled, bucking wildly, slamming her monster strapon in and out of Ann's cunt. "Cum for me! Cover my cock in your juices!" I'm...I'M CUMMING!!!" Ann screamed, pushing back on Charlene's strapon, her pussy tightening up on the hard rubber cock, juices pouring all over it, dripping out of her pussy, onto the floor.Charlene pulled the strapon out of Ann's pussy, the dickgirl moaning as the entire thick, hard shaft of the dildo exited her cummy cunt."Ann..." Charlene said, lying back down on her back on the floor, strapon still.
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’ I prayed every night, sometimes crying, that God would take Heather away from my thoughts, as I could not think of anyone else. Eventually, I stopped hearing from her. She stopped sending me pictures of her and her son. I heard stories about how her boyfriend, the pro ball player, and she were so happy. I also heard another side, about how when they were together there was a certain lack of intimacy that she and I shared when we hung out. I would say together, but, although during those three months we went on several lunch dates, called each other daily, and spent as much time together as we could, we never dated. We never kissed. I looked at the phone again. I was almost sure it wasn’t for me. I thought for a few moments as I was cruising Topeka Boulevard in my Jeep. I thought maybe I shouldn’t answer. I thought maybe I should. I opened the phone and I replied ‘Topeka.’ ‘I thought you were going to be home tonight.’ I worked nights, and she knew my schedule. She also knew that.

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